


Proper Worship

by bavariansugarcookie



Series: The River God [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Deepthroating, Facials, First Meetings, Human Shiro (Voltron), Immortal Keith (Voltron), Intracrural sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, river god Keith, very loosely inspired by Greek mythology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:55:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26113771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bavariansugarcookie/pseuds/bavariansugarcookie
Summary: Shiro really doesn't have a reason for venturing into the forest as often as he does - he doesn’t need wood for his fire, or venison for his table. The villagers avoid the forest like the plague, but Shiro goes because he feels a sense of peace. And he wants to catch a glimpse of the mysterious watcher who's as curious about him as he is about them.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: The River God [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1896112
Comments: 22
Kudos: 144





	Proper Worship

Shiro really didn’t have a reason for venturing into the forest as often as he did. He didn’t need wood for his fire, or venison for his table. He didn’t need herbs for healing draughts, unless Hunk asked him to bring him something. Like most of the other villagers, Hunk was usually too afraid to pass the treeline, only going in when absolutely necessary. 

Maybe that’s why Shiro went so often. He’d heard the whispers ever since he came back from his ill-fated trek into the mountains, covered in scars and missing an arm. He’d managed to bring the Holts back with him, which was one point in his favor, but more than one villager flinched when he passed by. 

“Probably still carrying some witch’s curse,” the gossips would whisper to each other when they thought he couldn’t hear them.

Maybe that’s why he felt so at home in the forest, he thought to himself as he ducked under a wayward branch. A cursed forest was a fitting haunt for a cursed man.

But he had never felt anything but peace in the forest. He liked to slowly learn the names of the wildflowers from the book he’d borrowed from Colleen, and to hear the birds sing. He laughed at the chubby fox squirrels that watched him as he passed, their cheeks full of red berries. 

But the squirrels weren’t the only ones watching.

He felt the familiar weight of curious eyes as he closed his eyes, turning his face up to the sun. He kept his eyes shut tight, hoping that if he was still enough, he might finally see his secretive watcher. 

He’d only caught glimpses before - dark eyes peering at him through the trees and long legs running away, deep into the forest where even Shiro wouldn’t go. Shiro had heard stories about tree spirits, and he wondered if he had finally seen one for himself.

He felt them move closer on silent footsteps.

He took a deep breath as fingers traced along his chest, and then pulled away. The figure stepped away and Shiro finally, finally opened his eyes, desperate to see them before they disappeared again.

He stared into dark violet eyes and the figure stared back, wide-eyed. He had a white tunic slipping off one shoulder, and his hair was such a deep purple it was almost black. His cheeks flushed from pale lilac to a deep plum.

Shiro was breathless, struck by his beauty. His lips parted, as if he wanted to say something. Shiro reached out to him -

And then the stranger ran.

“Wait!” Shiro called, but he plunged through the underbrush and into the trees. 

Shiro stood as if he was frozen in place, mournful somehow. But finally he shook himself and turned back to the village.

***

The next week, Shiro ventured back to the forest. He looked at the rain lilies, still coated in the morning dew, and tried not to notice that he couldn’t feel eyes watching him.

Hunk had asked him for silver-leaf nightshade for an antidote, so Shiro took the path to the clearing where he knew the flowers grew. Sure enough, he spotted the flowers, such a pale purple they were almost white in the tangle of grass and brambles. He fished out a cloth from his pack and bent down, carefully plucking a few stalks. Even with his metal hand, he still got a few scratches for his troubles.

Once he had enough, he wrapped them carefully in the cloth and stowed them away in his knapsack. His fingers still stung, so he decided to wash his hand off in the pond nearby.

He walked along the winding trail, smiling when he saw his favorite blue waterleaf flowers blooming, but too aware of his sore fingers to stop and look.

When he reached the pond, he knelt on the old stone steps leading down to the water, plunging his hands into the cool water with a sigh of relief.

He heard a  _ splash _ and turned to look, expecting to see a frightened bullfrog, or maybe a duck paddling away. 

Instead he found himself staring into a familiar pair of violet eyes, looking up at him from above the waterline. 

They both stared for a moment that seemed to stretch on and on, but then Shiro blinked and the figure ducked completely under the water.

“Wait!” Shiro called.

He watched the ripples ruffling the lily pads as they moved toward the center of the lake and sighed. 

He reached down to dry his hands off on his pants when he heard another splash. His head jerked up, and he saw the stranger watching him warily. 

Shiro held his hands out, palms up. “I won’t hurt you,” he said, and a sharp grin flashed across the swimmer’s face.

“I know,” he said, swimming closer. Shiro’s breath caught in his chest at the sight of water rippling over purple skin and his hair streaming out in the water behind him. 

The swimmer stopped, just out of reach, smirking up at Shiro, who was mortified to realize he was  _ blushing _ .

“Are you laughing at me?” he asked. 

“Maybe,” he conceded, reaching up to push his hair away from his face. 

Shiro chuckled, ducking his head to hide his flushing cheeks. 

The swimmer swam closer, until he was just out of reach. He peered up at Shiro. “You come here more than the other humans,” he said. “But you don’t cut down trees or hunt. Why do you come?”

“Oh,” Shiro blinked at him. “I just… feel at peace here. The villagers think it’s cursed, so I fit right in.”

His chuckle died in his throat as the other frowned up at him. “The villagers are fools. And the forest isn’t cursed.” He looked up at Shiro fiercely. “And neither are you.”

Shiro gaped at him. “What?” he finally managed.

Suddenly a purple hand darted out of the water and caught his metal hand. “You’ve been touched by dark magic, but it didn’t mark you.” He looked up at Shiro through his eyelashes. “She has no power over you.”

Shiro’s ears turned bright red at the touch, and a smirk passed over the swimmer’s face. “You’re very strange for a human,” he purred.

Shiro let out a startled laugh. “Have you been talking to the villagers?”

The swimmer scowled. “I haven’t spoken to the villagers since they dammed the river,” he snapped.

Shiro’s eyes went wide, remembering the stories his grandparents had told him about the river god coming to the village for the spring festival when the winter snows melted - before the dam was built. After that, he never came back. “Wait, you’re… the river god?”

He shied away from Shiro’s gaze, swimming further out of reach. “I was,” he whispered. “I left to visit my mother, and when I came back it was too late.” He frowned, looking out at the lake. “So I came here.”

Shiro’s heart ached. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

The river god turned. “You really mean it, don’t you?” he asked. “You really are unusual.”

“You can’t have met many good humans then,” Shiro said, and the river god barked out a laugh. 

“Well, I’m half human,” he said with a shrug. “So I’ve seen the worst of humans and gods.” He bit in his lip. “In my experience, most humans are disappointed when I can’t give them the favors they want.”

Shiro smirked. “I’m sure some humans want a favor, before they meet a god. After that I think they just hope not to be smited.” 

Keith laughed. “Or kept as a cupbearer.” His eyes flicked from a lazy duck swimming by up to Shiro’s eyes. “Or a lover.”

Shiro swallowed. “I can think of worse things,” he murmured, and Keith grinned at him, sharp and knowing.

Suddenly his hands caught on the stone step and he pulled himself halfway out of the water. Shiro barely had time to stare at all the water running down bare purple skin before the river god leaned in and kissed him. 

It was just a bush of lips, but Shiro gasped and he felt the river god smile. 

The kiss ended as fast as it began. With one last searing touch along Shiro’s cheek, the river god ducked down, resting his elbows against the stone. Shiro gaped at him and the river god raised an eyebrow, just a touch smug.

“It’s been too long since I had a human admirer,” he said, and Shiro stared helplessly at the flash of pink tongue licking his lip. “I’ve missed it.”

“You have?” Shiro managed to croak, and the god’s smile turned wolfish.

He pushed away from the steps and Shiro already mourned the loss. “You could come with me, if you wanted,” the river god said, blinking up at Shiro.

“I don’t even know your name,” Shiro said, and the river god smiled indulgently. 

“I’ve had a lot of names… but you can call me Keith,” he said, swimming further out, his eyes warm and dark on Shiro. "What should I call you?"

"Shiro," he said, and Keith beamed up at him, swimming a little further away.

"Are you coming, Shiro?" he asked, teasing.

_ How do you know he won’t drown you?  _ A voice (oddly like Hunk’s) echoed in his head. But he was already unlacing his boots. Shiro had met dark magic before, and it felt nothing like this. He shuddered as Keith watched hungrily as he dropped his clothes onto the sun-warmed stone and stepped into the water.

The water was cool and Keith winked at him before ducking under the lily pads. Shiro plunged in after him, afraid to lose him in the water, but when he opened his eyes the water was shockingly clear. He followed Keith’s trail of light streaming in through the gap in the water lilies. 

Soon they reached the island in the center of the lake, and Shiro stood in the waist-deep water, brushing his hair out of his eyes. 

Keith walked into the trees with a sly look over his shoulder. Shiro’s mouth went dry as he watched the water dripping down his back, down his thighs, and he found himself scrambling after him. 

He lost sight of Keith for a moment, but then he caught sight of him under an oak tree, sprawled out on the soft grass, surrounded by tiny blue and purple flowers, looking every inch a king. Or a god to be worshipped. 

Shiro knelt, like a supplicant, and Keith smiled. “Are you going to leave me waiting?” he asked, laying back lazily, letting Shiro stare at the lithe muscles, the dark curls between his legs, and his pretty cock, already hardening under Shiro’s gaze.

Shiro crept forward, lured by Keith’s sharp smile. When he was close enough to touch, he reached out, watching Keith’s chest heave as he traced his fingers along his thigh, a ghost of a touch.

Keith held out his arms. “Come here,” he whispered and Shiro went, powerless to disobey. Keith’s fingers curled through his hair, traced along his cheekbones, the scar across his nose, down his throat and along his collarbone. Shiro shivered and Keith reached up and ran his thumb along Shiro’s bottom lip. 

“Is this what you were hoping for, all those times you came to the forest?” he asked softly.

Shiro shook his head. “I wanted to see you, I - I never thought -”

Keith curled his hand around the back of Shiro’s neck and kissed him. Shiro gasped against his lips, letting it wash over him like a summer storm, a river dragging him in its tide. Keith nipped at his lip and Shrio groaned, kissing Keith until he was breathless, dizzy with the need swirling in his chest, threatening to choke him. 

Keith hummed and fell back onto the grass, with one last kiss to Shiro’s throat as consolation. His lips were kiss-swollen, his cheeks were flushed, and his hair was wild, and Shiro had never seen anything so lovely in his whole life.

As Shiro fought to catch his breath, Keith splayed his hand across his chest. Shiro ducked his head, feeling caught out by his own human heart.

Keith’s smile turned knowing and he cooed up at Shiro. Shiro ducked down and kissed his throat, his lips, trailing down Keith’s chest and belly, until Keith was squirming beneath him. 

Shiro sprawled between Keith’s legs, looking up at him through his eyelashes. Keith nodded and Shiro licked a long stripe along the underside of his cock and Keith threw his arm over his face with a moan.

Shiro closed his eyes as he wrapped his lips around Keith’s cockhead, pillowing his lips and tonguing at the slit.

Shiro breathed in deep through his nose as he sank down, taking Keith in a slow, steady slide, until he heard Keith whimpering into his fingers as his cock nudged against the back of his throat. Shiro blinked up at him and Keith reached out to smooth his white bangs back from his face. “Shiro,” he moaned, his hips bucking up into Shiro's waiting mouth. Shiro hollowed his cheeks, pulling Keith’s hips closer.

Keith writhed in Shiro’s hold, his toes curling. Shiro felt drunk on the way Keith’s fingers tightened in his hair, the weight of his cock on his tongue.

Suddenly Keith’s back arched and he pulled Shiro off his cock. “ _ Shiro _ !”

Shiro wrapped his hand around Keith’s dick, pumping slow and steady until Keith shuddered, cum splashing across Shiro’s lips and cheek. Shiro felt his cheeks burn, as Keith stared, watching the cum dripping down Shiro's throat, down his chest. He ran his finger through it and held it out for Shiro to taste it.

Shiro sucked on Keith's finger obediently, moaning at the sweet taste, and Keith growled and dragged him up, draping his arms around Shiro's shoulders and ducking in for a biting kiss.

Shiro groaned when he felt Keith lick into his mouth, crooning softly when he tasted himself on Shiro’s lips. 

He dragged Shiro close, holding his legs open until Shiro’s cock fucked between Keith’s thighs. Shiro’s mouth fell open on a silent moan, and then Keith’s fingers dug in his ass, guiding his hips forward. Shiro buried his face in the crook of Keith’s neck, overwhelmed by his touch, the soft heat of Keith’s thighs. 

Keith squeezed his legs around him and Shiro groaned against his sun-warmed skin, breathing in that scent of wildflowers and rain and something else, something distinctly not-human.

He reached down and palmed Keith’s softening cock and Keith moaned, clutching at Shiro’s arm and thrusting into his hand. He was hardening again already and Shiro kissed the back of his neck, stroking in time with his own thrusts. Keith struggled to stay still for Shiro, gasping every time Shiro’s wrist twisted on the upstroke. “Shiro,” he cried, spilling over Shiro’s fingers with a moan that sent Shiro hurling after him, dripping all over Keith’s thighs and the grass. 

Keith stretched luxuriously, smiling contentedly up at Shiro as he dragged him down to kiss him. Shiro went happily, humming as Keith kissed his forehead.

“I think I might have to keep you,” Keith said, running his hand down Shiro’s spine, smiling at Shiro’s grin, which he was sure was utterly besotted. 

“I can think of worse things,” Shiro teased, ducking down to kiss away Keith’s indignant squawk. Keith nipped at his lip, and suddenly wrapped a leg around Shiro’s thighs, flipping them easily. Shiro blinked up at him, breathless, while Keith smirked down at him. The sunlight caught his hair, turning his purple skin gilded. 

“That doesn’t sound like proper worship, Shiro,” Keith said, beautiful and smug and  _ divine _ and Shiro’s mouth went dry.

He laid back against the grass, crossing his arms at the wrist above his head. Keith looked down at him, his eyes soft and dark and wanting, and Shiro felt his pulse flutter in his throat. “Is this the kind of worship you wanted?” Shiro whispered, and Keith beamed, leaning down to kiss him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Afterwards Shiro convinces the villagers to tear down the dam, so Keith is able to go back to his home. Shiro moves into a house on the riverbank, so Keith can come and go as often as he pleases. And they live happily ever after, of course!!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! <3 You can find me over on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/bavariancookie) if you want to talk about Sheith!


End file.
